Mr December
by whitesheepcbd
Summary: Burt, Blaine, two calendars...and the life lessons they evoke.


**This was written for the Glee Reverse Big Bang over on Livejournal. Almost all the fics and art are up now, so head over there for a variety of Glee stories and artwork. The prompt art for this was drawn by pinkvegpixie and I'll try to direct you to it without being censored by this site. Type im gur do t c om into your web browser (without the weird spaces), followed by the backslash and n4Mtt. **

**Beta services by gottriplets, any remaining mistakes are totally my fault. **

* * *

He'd never expected there to be so many gray areas in parenting. Before becoming a father, he naively thought it'd be pretty simple. Hard work, yeah, but simple and straightforward. He thought if you just loved your kid, kept them safe, gave them what they needed for life, you were doing right by them. Weren't you?

But then he was gifted with a son who was nothing, nothing like he expected. Who grew into someone he both knew everything about and yet didn't recognize at all. Eight years later he was thrown into single parenthood, something that no one could have prepared him for-as if even parenting with his wife was something he had been prepared for. After years of muddling through with Kurt alone-because let's face it, muddling through was all he was doing with his kid-he was granted a second chance at love with Carole, a second chance at marriage and co-parenting. Plus he got a step-son in the bargain. Carole had done an amazing job raising her son on her own, but Finn's hunger for a father figure in his life was obvious.

Somehow, in Kurt's teen years, he found himself acting not only as father to him, and step-father to Finn, but also a surrogate father to some of their friends. Kurt met Blaine and from the first time he brought him over, Burt couldn't help but see the neediness in the kid. Someone had given him food, shelter, clothes, an education, but hadn't loved him enough. Or maybe just not the right way, the way he needed. The small, self-deprecating smile whenever Burt spoke to him or patted him on the back, as if he wasn't accustomed to parental attention, told him that. The more time Blaine spent at their house, the more he relaxed, but the neediness and eagerness to please never went away entirely.

Then Sam moved in, and there was another kid in his house who needed a substitute father. Sam had never lacked for love from his family, but now he was far away from them and phone calls could only do so much. When you had a kid living in your house, it wasn't enough to just feed them and give them a bed to sleep in. Didn't matter if they weren't your own. Every kid needed an adult to pay attention to them, keep them in line, guide them...even when they refused to admit it.

When Sam and Blaine started to become tighter friends in their senior year, with Kurt away in New York, Burt thought it would be great for both the boys. Both of them had lost friends and significant others, and they needed new relationships to ground them. Then came the call. _Dad, he cheated on me_ choked out between sobs. And Blaine didn't come around for a while. One afternoon in October, when some time had passed, Sam tentatively mentioned that he'd asked Blaine over to work on Student Council stuff. Burt couldn't find it in him to deny the kid entry to his home. Both of them still needed friends.

So he sat down to call his son one day, trying to figure out how to casually mention that his ex-boyfriend was hanging out at the house again. How do you tell your son that you've opened your door to the boy who broke his heart? How do you make him see that it's not acceptance of what said ex did, and it doesn't mean you're not still 100% on your son's side, but you can't bring yourself to hold a grudge against a lost and lonely seventeen year old? How did he, a single dad to one kid, come to find himself feeling responsible for the conduct and development of four young men? How did the 'simple' task of parenting turn into _this_?

* * *

He knew before opening the door on a snowy Saturday morning in early January, who he would find on the other side. It had taken months to initially convince Blaine that he didn't have to knock on the door every time he came over. At some point after things had gotten serious between his son and Blaine (and he preferred not to dwell too much on what 'serious' meant), the boy had finally adapted to the casual atmosphere in their house. After they broke up, he started knocking again, as if unsure of his welcome no matter how often he was told to just let himself in. Even taking him to New York over Christmas-when Burt thought they'd really bonded-hadn't convinced him to stop knocking.

"Mornin'," he greeted shortly. "Sam said you were coming over."

"Yes sir." There was that formality again.

"Some kind of fund-raiser for Glee?" he asked, shutting the door.

"Yes, sir. We need to raise $400 for the bus to Regionals." Blaine unwrapped his scarf as he spoke, and started on the buttons of his coat.

"So what's the plan? Another bake sale? You two plan on taking over my kitchen?" He grinned as he tried to picture it. Sam was almost as hopeless as Finn in the kitchen, capable of making toast or microwaving frozen food but that was about it. Blaine was a little better-he'd been coerced into sous chef duty while dating Kurt-but Burt wasn't sure how well he'd do without supervision. "Maybe you should ask Carole if she can help you two out. And I'm telling you now, if you pull a Puckerman and I catch you slipping anything extra in-"

"We're not doing a bake sale," Blaine stopped him quickly. "Sam didn't tell you?"

"The Men of McKinley Calendar!" Sam said from the stairs, striking an exaggerated pose.

"A calendar? Well, it's worked for others in the past." Burt grinned, remembering. "What is it you boys need to work on exactly?"

"Concepts," Blaine answered. "How we're going to pose, what we're going to wear, what sort of background to use."

"So let's get to it! C'mon up, bro!" Sam was already heading back up the stairs.

Burt chuckled as he went to grab his own coat and head to the garage. It was really nice to have Finn around to help out, as he'd often go in early to open the shop or stay late to close, allowing Burt more downtime than he'd had for years. But it was still his business and he was still there to oversee it the majority of the time. He looked up as laughter carried down the stairs. After so many years with just him and Kurt, it was nice to have his house this full, too.

* * *

"C'mere kid, I want to show you something before we go." He beckoned Blaine into the living room as soon as he came in. "I never showed Kurt this, I'd forgotten about it till you boys started talking about doing your own." He picked it up and flipped to the back page, handing it over.

The boy's eyes grew wide as he took in the picture. "Mr. Hummel, is this...you?"

"It's Burt, kid, how many times do I have to say it? And yeah, it's me. Don't sound so surprised. I was your age once too, you know."

Blaine laid the calendar flat on the coffee table, leaning over to scrutinize it more closely. "You were Mr. December, like me," he mused. He looked up. "What was this for?"

"Fund-raiser for the football team. McKinley isn't a big school even now, but it was even smaller back then. Nothing was all that well funded through the school, so all the clubs and teams had to raise their own money."

"Did you pose for other months too?" Blaine asked, picking it up to flip through the pictures.

"No, just December. You have to consider that we had a lot more guys on the football team than you do in Glee."

"And none of you had any qualms about taking your shirt off, apparently," Blaine grinned, flipping through the pages. "Mr. July was pretty hot."

Burt closed his eyes in mortification. What else did he expect, showing a calendar full of shirtless young men to a gay seventeen year old? Ok, ok, he could be mature about this. No big deal. "Who was July?" Burt asked, coming to look over Blaine's shoulder and hoping he came off casual.

"Some kid named Edward McVee?" Blaine turned the calendar to show him.

"Eddie Mac?"

"Is that what you guys called him back then?" The boy grinned, looking up at him. "Wait...Eddie Mac...why does that name sound familiar?"

Burt tugged on his cap, biding his time and wondering for a fleeting moment which of them was going to be more embarrassed.

"Eddie Mac works for me, kid. You've met him."

He could see him thinking, trying to remember which of the men it was...and then the moment when realization hit. Blaine dropped the calendar on the table and even stepped back from it as though afraid of what other secrets it might reveal.

"THAT guy?" he gasped. "With the, the potbelly and the comb over and the bad teeth? Plus he reeks of nicotine!" He shuddered.

Burt found himself, contrary to his expectation, amused by the reaction. "He's fifty years old, kid, whaddaya expect? Time takes its toll."

"Well, yeah, but...how did he get from-" Blaine gestured at the calendar still open on the table- "to-" he mimed a large belly in front of himself, evidently out of words to express himself.

Burt snorted. "Bills to pay, sick kids to stay up all night with, a job you have to get up and go to every day whether you enjoy it or not...you really think you're going to be as pretty as you are now, after thirty years of _that_? Are any of you?"

A small smile appeared on the boy's face. "Well, Kurt might. He seems to think the usual rules don't apply to him."

"Yeah well, as much time as he spends pampering his skin, hiding from the sun, and eating health food, he just might look the same in three decades."

Evidently over the worst of the shock, Blaine picked up the calendar again, contemplating the picture of the eighteen year old Eddie Mac before flipping the pages back to December. He smirked before raising his eyes to meet Burt's.

"Can I just say, Mr. Hummel, that you definitely aged better than Eddie Mac." He waggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly, and oh dear Lord. He snatched the calendar and closed it, tossing it back on the table.

"You done embarrassing me for now? Can we just go to radiation, because I think that might be less uncomfortable than this."

Blaine swept his arm in a courtly gesture toward the door, inviting Burt to precede him. "Your chariot awaits."

Burt folded himself into the passenger side of the low-slung car so different from his own pickup truck. He'd offered to take his vehicle so they'd be burning his gas, but Blaine always insisted that he felt more comfortable driving his Prius. It made him feel ridiculous to be driven around by a teenager, but the clinic's rules required that all radiation patients be driven to and from treatment by someone else. It was most often Carole who took him, having re-arranged her work schedule as much as possible. Finn and Sam had both taken several turns at playing driver, and occasionally, when none of the others were available, Blaine would drive.

Burt had been hesitant to ask Blaine to join the driving rotation. He didn't want the teenager to feel that he had to do it because he owed anything to anyone, or was welcome at the house only if he contributed in some way. It was Carole who'd reminded him that the boy had offered repeatedly to help in any way he could. "You know he promised you-and Kurt-that he'd keep an eye on you. So let him help sometimes, it makes him feel like he's keeping his promise. And that goes for the rest of us too. Let us help out. You're used to being the strong one who has to hold everyone else together. But you're not a single parent anymore, with a little kid to look after by yourself. You have this extended family, whether you got them by blood, marriage, or by choice, who loves you and wants to help. So let us help." He'd hugged her; grateful beyond speaking because at that moment, it truly hit him how lucky he was with his family-all of them.

"We're here," Blaine said, and he looked out the window to realize it was true. He'd been lost in his musings for the entire drive. He signed in with the receptionist and was told that he'd have a short wait.

Blaine was already seated and engrossed in his iPhone as Burt sat next to him.

"Kurt says hi," Blaine reported. "He's about to go into his next class and doesn't have time to call, but he wants to know if you're sticking to your recommended diet plan."

"Doesn't have time to call, but has time to nag me through you, via text," Burt groused.

"He said to tell you he'll call tonight to see how you're feeling."

"And I'll tell him I'm fine, because I am. I don't feel sick at all; even the radiation hasn't given me any of the side effects I was warned about."

"That's great," Blaine said easily. "Kurt's still going to check on you."

"And how often does he nag you for reports?" Burt asked, slouching low in his chair and letting his cap slide over his eyes. May as well relax, he'd learned that 'short wait' could mean five minutes or forty-five.

"Oh, just every day. I don't mind. I'm just really glad he's talking to me again."

"You two will be okay, kid."

"You really think so?" There was too much hope in his voice, an echo of how he used to sound when he first came to Burt's house, when he soaked up any little bit of attention or positive feedback as if he'd been starved for it for years.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't know if you'll ever get back together like you were before, that's up to you two, nothing to do with me. But I think you two will always be friends. You'll have your ups and downs and things probably won't turn out how you expect, but you'll be okay."

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans?" Blaine asked, and without lifting his cap to look Burt could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah, exactly." Silence for a moment except for the muted noise of clinic operations and the clicking of Blaine's phone. There was something familiar about what the boy had just said, he felt he'd heard it before but couldn't place it. He could almost look across the jumbled attic of his memory and spot the box it was in, but he wasn't able to reach it for all the other boxes in between. "Was that a quote from something?" he finally asked.

"What?"

"That thing you just said, were you quoting something?"

"Uh, yeah. 'Beautiful Boy', it's a John Lennon song."

Of course. "Lizzie used to sing it to Kurt."

"He always said he got his voice from her."

"Wasn't from me, that's for sure."

Quiet huff of laughter and more clicking.

"His mom must have been really special. I mean, he still talks about her a lot."

"Does he?" He finally raised his head to look at Blaine.

"Well, yeah. Doesn't he?"

"Not so much to me anymore. On certain occasions, like her birthday, or Mother's Day, or the date she died, of course. But aside from that...I kinda thought, with him getting a step-mom, maybe that filled the hole a little, y'know? And he finally found his place at school with the Glee Club, and you, and now he's living the big city life...I just figured he doesn't think about her as much anymore."

Blaine's eyes were steady on his. "He does. I think...that he's always trying to make both of you proud."

"I am proud of him, and Lizzie would be too, if she were here. Sometimes I wonder how Kurt would have turned out different if his mom had lived. But then, I'd never have met Carole, and wouldn't have brought Finn into the family...might not have you or Sam around either." He shrugged, and adjusted his cap. "I never in a million years would have wanted to lose Lizzie, but I can't imagine my life right now being any different than it is either. I told ya kid, you never know how your life will turn out."

"You mean I might have a pot belly and a bad comb-over in thirty years?" His eyes widened in exaggerated horror.

"Still on about that?"

"I may never recover from the trauma," Blaine answered solemnly.

Burt was laughing when a nurse called him for his treatment, earning him a perplexed look. Maybe they didn't have many patients who laughed at they went into the radiation room. He waited through the treatment, which was tedious more than anything, then went to find Blaine still in the waiting room.

"Ready?" he asked. He was still tapping away at his phone. Just how long could today's teenager spend on one of those things, he wondered. He could barely manage to text.

"You're so lucky," a cracked voice came from his right. He turned to the speaker, an elderly woman leaning on the walker in front of her even though she was seated. A white-haired man who he assumed was her husband sat next to her. "You have your son to drive you to your appointments, that's so nice. So many young kids these days, they don't want to take the time for their families," she said severely.

Burt glanced at Blaine who'd finally looked up from his gadget.

"Oh, I'm just helping out, I'm not-"

"I am," Burt interrupted, directing it toward the couple. "I'm very lucky in my family. Have a good day. Let's go, kid." He turned to leave and from the corner of his eye, saw Blaine gaping at him for a moment before he followed.

* * *

"I'm telling you, I don't feel sick and I'm not even feeling any of the side effects they said I might have. You're stressing yourself out over nothing, kid." Burt reclined on the bed, back against the headboard.

"I've been reading up on this, and apparently some of the side effects don't show up till long after treatment's over, years even." Kurt's voice was getting higher as the conversation went on, a sure sign of stress.

Burt laughed. "Yeah, I read the same stuff. But you know what? That's something that might happen years down the road, or might not, and I'm not going to waste time thinking about it. And I don't want you to, either." He looked up as Carole entered from the bathroom, his eyes following her around the bedroom as she went through her nighttime routine. "Actually, that reminds me of something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh my God, the last time you led with a line like that, you told me you had cancer. Did you get bad news from your doctor today? Is it spreading?"

"Kurt." He waited for his tone of voice to get through to his son. "I haven't told you to shut up many times in your life, but I'm saying to you now-shut up and let me talk."

"Ok." He sounded sufficiently subdued.

"It goes back to that conversation we had at the diner, when I told you about the diagnosis. Do you remember what you said?"

"That I was going to be sick?"

"After that. You said something about reaching your destiny, and me maybe not being here to see it?"

"Yeah. I remember."

"The thing is, and this is what I want to say to you, I don't want you to ignore today and all the great things you have in your life now, because you're always thinking the future's going to be so much better. I'm not saying not to make plans, and pursue goals, I know you'll do that anyway. But no matter how many plans you make, life is gonna throw you curve balls, and you'll look back ten or twenty years from now and realize that your life turned out different than you expected. Mine's sure different than I imagined, but...now I wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled at Carole as she sat next to him, and reached out a hand for hers. There was a long silence from the other end. "Kurt? You still there?"

"Yeah. I just...I'm not sure what to say. You don't usually get this philosophical, Dad."

He snorted. "Well, I told ya-this is the third time I'm staring death down. If that doesn't make a person stop and think, I don't know what will. Well, that and an old calendar, and an older song."

"OK, now you're just getting weird."

He laughed again. "Ask Blaine next time you talk to him." He paused. "You two are still talking, right?"

"Yeah. Not sure where that will go, but..."

"That's ok. Just enjoy it for whatever it is right now, and enjoy the life you have now, ok?"

"So...'no day but today'?"

"Yeah, that might sum it up. Why do I think you were quoting something?"

Now he could hear the smile in Kurt's voice. "Ask Blaine next time you talk to him."

"I'll do that. G'night, Kurt."

"G'night, Dad. Love you."

"Love you too."

He hung up the phone and looked at his wife next to him. "Hope I didn't freak him out too much. I just...felt like I needed to say it, y'know?"

She nodded. "What brought this on, though? You got your diagnosis over a month ago, why getting all thoughtful about life now?"

"I showed Blaine high school pictures of me and some of my old football buddies today. One of them he knows-Eddie who works in my garage for me?" She nodded. "Kid couldn't believe the changes from high school to now, it got me thinking...no one finishes high school having any idea what life holds for them. They might think they know, but they don't." He shrugged. "Just don't want any of our boys to get too stuck thinking they know how life _should_ turn out."

"Hmmm." She was quiet for a moment. "So...would this be the 1979 calendar that I found on the coffee table downstairs?" He froze. "I found you in there," she grinned. "So, ummm...what happened to that hunky eighteen year old who posed for December?"

* * *

"Alright, let's see it!" Carole announced loudly as she came into the kitchen. The boys were pillaging the refrigerator, pantry, and cabinets for snacks as Burt watched from his seat at the table, wondering if they'd have any food left for dinner. Finn-who Burt couldn't help but still think of as a boy-was a bottomless pit all by himself. With him and Sam back to living in the house full time and Blaine visiting several times a week, it had never been so hard to keep the kitchen supplied.

"See what?" Sam asked around a mouthful of potato chips.

"Your calendar!"

"Umm, it's not here yet." Blaine turned from the counter where he was dipping pita chips into hummus. Carole bought it just for him, since neither of the other boys would touch it. "Being delivered next week."

"Liar." She swatted him over the head, and he immediately smoothed his hair down again. "They were delivered yesterday."

"Finn!" both of them accused.

"What? It's not like it was a secret!" Finn carried a triple decker sandwich over to the table and sat next to Burt. With most kids he would caution that they were ruining their dinner, but he knew from experience that it wasn't possible with his stepson.

"But dude...c'mon," Sam appealed to Finn. "It's not like we want to show those pictures to your _mom_."

"At least you kept your shirt on," Blaine said to him.

"You did?" both adults asked, then looked at each other and laughed.

"What's the big deal?" Sam shrugged before opening the refrigerator, obviously avoiding looking at them. "It's not like I don't wear a shirt every day."

"Well, yeah...but it's not like you have a problem taking it off, either." Burt grinned, careful to keep the jab brief. Finn had told them in private what Sam had been doing to help support his family in Kentucky, but neither of them had mentioned it to the boy since they didn't want to embarrass him. It was true though, that Sam had no qualms about walking around the house shirtless after a workout or if he was about to jump into the pool. "So why'd you keep your shirt on for the calendar shoot?"

"'Er aree," Finn said with his mouth full.

"Finn Hudson, swallow before you speak and remember the manners I've spent my life trying to teach you!"

He swallowed quickly, flinching under his mother's glare. "Sorry. I said, he did it for Artie." He stopped to drink and then continued in response to their questioning looks. "Well, Artie didn't want to take his shirt off, because he's not as built as the rest of the guys. And he said any picture of him would really just be a picture of his wheelchair, and being the only one to keep his shirt on would just draw more attention to him being different. So Sam volunteered to keep his shirt on, so Artie wouldn't be the only one wearing clothes."

"You did him solid with that one," Burt said to Sam after a pause. He only shrugged dismissively.

"You did...though I hope that the rest of the boys had at least _some_ clothes on," Carole said pointedly to Blaine.

"Yes ma'am...completely modest, I swear."

"Maybe not _completely_," Finn muttered, but Burt was pretty sure he was the only one who heard him.

"So where is it?"

"Umm..."

"Don't think you've distracted me, I want to see it." A long moment of silence, before Carole employed her 'mom voice'. "Finn."

He sighed. "In my bag by the door."

In the moment following the mad scramble of the three of them exiting the room, Finn shook his head. "Don't know why they're acting all embarrassed, the whole reason you make a calendar is for people to look at it."

"Huh. I heard the boys talking about the costumes and backgrounds. You're really trying to tell me that you wouldn't be embarrassed to have your mom see you shirtless and wearing pumpkin shorts? Or Easter bunny ears?"

"Well, at least it's not _their_ mom," he said as he blushed. Burt thought that Carole might as well be, as prominent as she was in both boys' lives right now, but he bit his tongue. He listened for a moment to the scuffling noises and protests coming from the other room, then a threat to withhold dinner, followed by obedient silence. He leaned over to Finn and said quietly, "You did save one of those calendars like I asked, right?"

"Yeah. If the McKinley girls' reactions were anything to go by, Kurt's really going to like January and December."

Carole came back into the kitchen, brandishing the new calendar. "Got it!" she crowed. "They both ran off upstairs before I could open it in front of them, they suddenly remembered a big science project they're supposed to be working on."

Finn scraped his chair back as he stood up, taking his plate with him. "I'm outta here too, I don't need to watch you perv on high school boys, Mom."

She gave him a friendly punch on his way by as he hurried out. "That's one way to clear the room," Burt commented as she brought the calendar over to the table. She flipped the pages, both of them laughing at the ridiculous costumes and poses, teenage boys trying too hard to be sexy and cute at the same time, not sure if they wanted to be boys or men.

"Some of these boys really aren't wearing much. I wonder what their parents are saying about this." Carole kept turning pages till she got to December, and yeah, Kurt was going to like that one. "Oh Burt...look what he did."

He looked at the picture again. Blaine had pulled his Santa pants down so low around his hips that it bordered on inappropriate, but Burt didn't see anything that would have put that fond note into his wife's voice.

"You don't recognize the pose, with one foot up on a gift box? Think back thirty years."

He looked again. "That little brat stole my pose! Shouldn't I get royalties for that?"

* * *

**December 28, 2013**

"There was one present that we all wanted to give you together," Kurt said. He handed over a square flat box, wrapped carefully in tasteful wrapping that he knew only his son could have chosen.

"Yeah, we waited till Sam could come visit, so he'd be here too," Finn contributed.

Burt opened the lid and lifted the tissue paper, revealing a 2014 calendar. The cover showed all of them-himself, Carole, Kurt, Finn, Blaine, and Sam-around a picnic table. He recognized it as being from the end-of-summer cookout they'd hosted before sending all the boys and their friends off for the 2013 fall semester. He looked up quickly at the eager faces watching him, and lifted the calendar out of the tissue paper to open it.

"It was Blaine's idea," Sam told him.

He turned the pages, trying not to get misty-eyed at all the images that they'd obviously put a lot of thought into choosing. February showed himself and Carole in Hawaii on their long-delayed honeymoon. March had various pictures of the boys helping him out in the shop while they were home for spring break. May, Kurt's birth month, was his twenty-years-younger self in the delivery room, holding his newborn son next to Lizzie. June had two pictures-himself and Carole with their sons as they graduated in 2012, then a matching picture of them with Blaine and Sam in 2013. July and August were both a collage of photos from the summer, the boys and all their friends hanging out at the backyard pool and more from that last cookout before they all went back to school. October was the house decorated for Halloween, with smaller picture insets of the boys showing how they'd each celebrated at their scattered locations. November was the predictable family picture around the dinner table. Sam hadn't been there, but Finn and Kurt had both made it home for the holiday and Blaine joined them for dinner as well. December was...Burt was weakening, tears almost falling, as he looked at a picture from the previous Christmas. All of them were seated in front of the tree, wearing the new clothes they'd just received or holding various gifts, leaning in close together for the camera. There was an inset of Burt from 1979 in that ridiculous Christmas pose, and a caption that read, "Mr. December...Then and Now."

He looked up at a quiet clattering, to see Carole sitting down a tray of steaming mugs. Apple cider, from the smell of it. She passed a mug to him with a smile, while everyone else took one for themselves.

"I propose a toast," Blaine said, lifting his mug formally. "To Burt Hummel, who we all owe debts to, and this amazing family he and Carole have taken care of for the past few years. To..." he looked at Burt, his eyes twinkling. "To Mr. December, then and now."

"Here, here!" Carole exclaimed, holding her mug up. "To Mr. December!"

They all tapped their cups. "Mr. December."

"Merry Christmas, Dad." Kurt leaned down to give him a hug.

"From me too," said Blaine, and he accepted a hug from him as well. Over his shoulder he could see that Finn and Sam were just waiting their turns, and he caught Carole's eye, seeing her pride that he felt as well, that they'd helped raise four such amazing young men. He still wondered how the simple task of parenting had turned into this.

* * *

**This was my second story for the GRBB, and was a last minute pinch hit story. My first story was much longer and features the Glee girls going "Over the Slushie Rainbow." Look for it in my profile!**

**Thanks for reading!**


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